


First thing when

by KerryLamb



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bedtime Fluff, Dating, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Mind Meld, Normal Life, Pillow Talk, Sleepovers, Sleepy Cuddles, morning fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2018-12-22 23:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11977224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KerryLamb/pseuds/KerryLamb
Summary: A small collection of fluff drabbles to illuminate Nyota and Spock's intimacy when waking. Set in the following order: Academy days, STB, New Vulcan and life after their commission is served.





	1. I should go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AdiaMeraki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdiaMeraki/gifts).



> A fluff prompt from Lucystillintheskywithdiamonds for fluff practice.
> 
> Hints to sexual intimacy but no detail of it so we can stick to teen. If I don't stick to a T rating I have a problem of going ape shit with having them makeout like their lives depend on it. Just like What is this: is it too much to ask, I might write a one shot of hawt lurving should the mood strike or it seems folks are really gunning for it. As it is I still need to write a one shot wedding for that fic and need to practice this fluff mess.

“ Really, I can go back. It’s not too late…”

 

His voice comes out deeper than it has been all evening; a husky baritone that makes her sway. “ Would it make a difference if I preferred you to stay?”

 

Nyota looks up at him then with her teeth running over her bottom lip in temptation. Would it?

 

Spock pulls her away from the door and holds her as if he can’t believe it for himself. His thumbs are making small circles at her sides over the fabric of her shirt while his fingers push eagerly at her back. He’s making this difficult because he’s making it easy.

 

He’s still looking at her with the same face he made after they kissed and melded, an expression that’s both winsome and mischievous. The latter isn’t something that Nyota thought she’d ever attribute to him but subconsciously she knows she wished to. He’s careful not to touch their skin together. He wants this decision to be entirely her own with no thoughts of coercion. 

 

“ Spock…” she sighs, in growing defeat. His hands easily pull her body against his and travel along her back. They transverse every cardinal direction. north along her shoulders, back along the east and western plains of her waist and south, hovering at the swell there with palpable anticipation. 

 

_ C’mon and go. You know what might happen if you stay. _

 

Oh, she  _ knows _ which why it’s so hard to leave. She wants all of what might happen, but she’s yet to damn all the consequences and throw caution to the wind.

 

It’s late and she doesn’t want to go but she knows she should. The evening was pleasant, there night has been enlightening and she has to wonder, he makes her wonder, what would come to pass if she were to stay until morning? 

 

The taste of tonight’s tea and the sweetness of it from his mouth is on her tongue as a reminder of her lusty sobriety. There would be nothing influencing her otherwise should she stay outside of her want too. And the way the rest of Spock’s body is unnaturally still helps her to see that he’s trying his damndest not to add to it by showing how much he wants her to stay with him.

 

She takes another breath and sighs again, flicking her eyes to the chronometer on his apartment’s control panel and back to his glassy, black gaze. “ Yes.”

 

Okay or maybe just a few more hours, but yes. Words and their meaning were important to the both of them. Standard was neither one’s first language but in learning it the purity of the definition was maintained.

 

Spock releases his breath with what one could only interpret as one of relief and pulls her closer still. She rises up on her toes and joins their mouths for another kiss and feels the sweetness of his mouth rekindle along her tongue. 

 

In a clumsy dance of footsteps they make their way to the bedroom and fall upon with a synchronized umph. Their kissing becomes more hungry then and Nyota’s adore dampens when one of his teeth nic at her lip.

 

Spock sits up in mortification, looking back at her in horror that he would hurt her when she pulls him back down with a shush. “ It’s okay, it’s okay. Come here.” 

 

He huffs in frustration at himself and once more as she kisses the pout on his face with giggle. She continues to do so until she coaxes him back into kissing her but even then she feels his careful manipulation of his mouth as not to harm her again. 

 

Still dressed in through clothing they lie on top of the duvet with their hands trying to find a place to settle. Once he’s comfortable again, Nyota breaks the kiss and sucks on her lip. 

 

Spock looks at her patiently as her eyes run over her face. She takes a breath and holds it, contemplating her question before posing it aloud. “ If I wanted to meld with you again before we went to sleep, do you think you would be able to?”

 

She tugs at the collar of his shirt from underneath his sweater and hopes she’s said nothing to offend him with asking. She wasn’t sure how melding and his telepathy in general worked beyond the nature of how it was initiated. Could he do it only once a day or did it have a recovery time like after a guy...ahem, well, it’s safe to say she is curious and doesn’t know.

 

Spock’s eyes narrow into a smile as he inhales and places a hand at the back of her head. “ I can do one better...if you are at all interested in trying?”

 

“ Oh  _ I’m _ interested.” she enthuses, shuffling closer to him on the bed. He simultaneously pulls her forward with his hand as a guide and places the fingers of the other along her face. “ Do you have any ablutions or bathroom activities you wish to perform before you sleep?”

 

“ No,” she whispers softly. He nods and actually smiles at her then as he finds a comfortable positioning for himself. He murmurs quietly into the air and then into her head as he cast himself inside of her.

 

They sigh silently and relish the touch of Nyota’s fingers as she spreads them over the tops of his shoulders. It’s different this time. He’s not seeking to view anything and she’s not looking to show him. They’re together in the vacant spaces of one another’s minds and sinking into it as they grow warmer and settle. 

 

She doesn’t remember falling asleep but she recalls waking to the knowledge that Spock was observing her. He was looking at without his eyes and with an equal vulnerability. His non-judgemental awareness of her, made her open further until their eyes eventually opened to the reality of their senses.

 

She sighs slowly and Spock blinks at her longingly. It’s earlier than either would typically get up but he figures she would not wish to be seen crossing the campus grounds in what was obviously nightwear. She thanks him with a lingering kiss made longer by his reciprocation and eventually leaves him for the door and the cold, quiet morning outside.

 

He was insistent on seeing her out but she convinces him or rather tells him that she would prefer to see herself out. She wants to be alone with her thoughts. She wants to take time to see how it feels so she can compare it to the closeness she felt when he was in her mind.

 

At no point did they take off their clothes or give attention to anatomy that would have been pleasurable. That being said, last night was the most intimate encounter that she’s ever had.

Somehow she knows, the same goes for him.


	2. But I want you to stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyota's attending a sleepover with the ladies and Spock is beside himself with pouty, Vulcan grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and update everyday until this is finish while working on between two suns and crown jewels. Hopefully be down within the first week :) *crosses fingers*

 

Nyota pulls her socks from the dresser and stands up with a long suffering sigh. “ Spock, stop it.”

 

“ Stop what exactly? Digestion? Respiration?”

 

Nyota groans and rolls her eyes over to where her bondmate is decidedly pouting on the couch. “ You know what I mean.” she says gesturing towards his sullen countenance there against the seat cushion. He looks up at her from the corner of his eyes.

 

“ If I had knowledge to what you were referring to I would not have asked for a better explanation.”

 

_ Sarcastic son of a- _

 

Nyota growls between her teeth and looks up from her packing to give her a piece of her mind when Spock hits her with a definition worthy look of puppy eyes. Wide and forlorn like the last in the litter to get chosen, her Vulcan sweetheart blinks up with a classic case of what Christine calls F.O.M.O.. Fear of missing out, particularly on concerning her.

 

They had a routine he said and she was breaking it with this ‘ female bonding ritual’ or what was better known as a Sleepover. It had a dual purpose in servicing as a hen party and team building exercise but Spock was beside himself with righteous indignation.

He didn’t mind at all that she would be away and actually encouraged the exercise in bonding. The bachelorette party was equally as important as Spock knew Lieutenant Masters to be a good friend of his K’diwa. The crux of the situation was that he did not like sleeping without her.

 

They did it often, what with away parties and rescue mission that demanded the other’s attention and duty elsewhere. They had an obligation to the Captain’s orders and his ship’s operations but Spock needed her.

 

Over the course of their time aboard the Enterprise, they had fallen into a comfortable routine of bedtime rituals. There were variances, of course, but Spock knew their statistical likelihood as much as he knew their descriptions. After their shift was over they would excuse themselves to the galleys mess hall and dine with their crewmates, unless of course it had been over seven standards. 

 

No more than seven standards could pass without them seeing themselves on a date somewhere on the ship and for those nights they dined alone. This changed if they were docked at a station or in standard orbit above some inhabited planet which would automatically call for a date off ship. 

 

Whatever the case when it came to end meal, they would consume whatever sustenance they wished and retired to their shared quarters. Aboard the first two ship, Spock and Nyota had been assigned two separate cabins but as their relationship progressed into a steady, open secret the pair had quietly been assigned to bunk in the first officer’s cabin together.  

 

They took regular advantage of it by doing what Nyota referred to as ‘playing house’ which Spock took more to mean their monthly debates over who did what chores the best and how certain linens should be folded. There was also movie night and a nightly race for the shower but most of all there was cuddle time.

 

Regularly performed and repeated frequently, their nocturnal snuggling was, without a doubt, one of Spock’s favorite things. Often time Nyota could find him patiently lying in bed, with a PADD or his comm device to pass the time until she exited the bathroom. Upon her arrival he would discard any and everything he was working on and open his arm for her to fall into.

 

Face to face or spooning, it made no difference to Spock so long as he had her beside him. 

Aside from their ‘biology itch’ they would indulge generously and thoroughly scratching, Spock and Nyota had regular sleep schedule. Of course there were poker nights, observation watches from the deck and girl’s night much like this one to slightly interrupt it but if they were onboard they always came home to sleep.

 

But tonight Nyota would be sleeping over and Spock was acting like a giant, Vulcan toddler. The sudden change in schedule made him feel blindsided. And grumpy. 

 

He was normally good with this kind of activity but she had not told him until a few hours leading up to it. She let the ladies know about the order reassignment as soon as she got it handed down through the subspace banks. The group rescheduled accordingly once they found out that none of them had anything preventing them from going tonight. 

 

_ Well none of them have any big, brooding Vulcan obstacles back in their bunks using them as security blankets, _ she thinks as she glances over to where Spock is clutching a throw pillow to his chest, already mourning her absence while still in her presence.  _ The big baby. _

 

“ Spock, I told you, it was suppose to be later in the month on the 29th but Chapel and Rand are leaving next week for an assignment and won’t be back until after Master’s wedding. They had no idea, the order just came through today - Spock don’t make that face.”

 

Spock turns his crestfallen gaze back towards her, away from the bedroom and pulls his bottom lip in a bit. “ It is unfortunate that they will not be in attendance.” is all he says but the slight downturn of his lips say something more along the lines of ‘ _ and I must suffer for it? _ ’ 

 

She continues to stare at him until he huffs through his nose and sulks further onto the couch. She says sulk but for anyone else, it looks as if Spock is relaxing his shoulders and leaning back in order to get comfortable. 

To Nyota however, he may as well have flounced himself back onto a chaise with a hand to his forehead like some swooning maid from Victorian England.

 

She takes pity on him and leaves her bag to sit down at his side. He doesn’t acknowledge as she leans over against him but she can feel his quiet pleasure that she has left her packing to instead tend to him. She rubs her hand over the top of his own and butts her forehead against his shoulder. “ I’m not a teddy bear, Spock, you can fall asleep without me.”

 

“ I am well aware.” he rebuts a beat too quickly to be polite. Nyota pokes her chin into his back and he sighs with an apology. “ You are, however, soft and essential to a sound night’s rest.”

 

She laughs and shakes her head at his petulant behavior. “ Oh my god, Spock cut it out! Stop with the dramatics, you are acting like I’ve been reassigned!”

 

He groans like an irritated cat and twists to face her. She smiles at him with shake of her head which only leads to him groaning against and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. Nyota hums and runs a hand over his head and ruffles his hair playfully. “ I swear, you’re worse than my grandmother’s cat, Shomari.”

 

“ Was he as handsome a male as I am?” Spock grumbles into her neck and Nyota chuckles with a noise of agreement. “ Oh yes, quite handsome. Huge, orange lump of a cat. He was only a touch fuzzier than you are and couldn’t hold a candle to you when it comes to stubbornness.”

 

Spock huffs haughtily, disturbing her hair down around her back and pulls her into a hug. “ Why do you bring him up then if we are so different?”

 

Nyota captures his face then between her heads and runs her thumbs over the slight stubble lining his cheeks. “ Because like you, he would faithfully sleep beside me and purr whenever I noticed him there in bed. And also like you he would throw a tantrum when he knew I was leaving to go back to Academy.”

 

Just as she knew he would Spock’s eyes scrunch thoughtfully as she goes over her assessment. “ I do not purr in my sleep.”

 

“ Oh my god, you sound like a motorboat trolling the water.” she teases, shaking his head between her hands. “ But it’s only when you’re exceptionally inebriated or tired which is lucky for me. Otherwise I doubt I’d get any sleep.”

 

Spock studies her to see if she’s speaking truthfully or still joking with him and decides to defend himself further. “ I would recall having such a reaction as I slept. I have an-”

 

“ - an eidetic memory, yes, I know. You might want to get that checked out, buddy because I have the memories to prove it.” she smirks as she rubs their noses together. “ You. Sir. Purr.  _ Loudly _ .”

 

He stares into her eyes and looks not at all amused. “ You snore.”

 

“ I do not!” she retorts loudly, releasing his face. He lifts a single brow and tilts his head. “ As you said earlier, I have memories of it. Many, in fact, to choose from.”

 

“ You are a brat.”

 

“ I am not. Which traits or characteristics are you referring to when prescribing this label?”

 

She swats at his arm and he carefully pushes her back onto the couch with a small smile. “ I dunno, maybe you’re need to have me in our bed every night?”

 

Spock blinks down at where he pushed her, nonplussed. “ Do you not want the same?”

 

Nyota looks up at him then and realizes soon after the mistake she’s made. He’s giving her puppy eyes, full-no, no holds-bar begging, pleading, ‘don’t do it’ eye.

 

“ Ah, shit.” she groans, averting her gaze.

 

_ Cochran, he is dangerous with those peepers _ , she thinks, trying to escape the weight of them even as he continues his pining stare. She gets to her feet and swiftly resumes stuffing her toiletries away in her makeup case. “ Of course I do Spock. I love you.”

 

She can feel his pupils boring into her as she puts the case away in her bag and follow her as she goes into the bedroom to change into her pajamas. “ I love you too.” he replies, pitifully.

 

_ Heaven help her _ . Nyota races to dress in her most modest set of nightwear and freezes as a strong pair of arms wrap around her and pull her up against the solid bulk of her illogically-moody boyfriend. “ Forgoing your typical nightwear?”

 

Nyota makes a face she knows he can’t see but can feel the sentiment of and starts unbuttoning her top. “ I don’t think I can go there with just one of your t shirts and my panties on.”

 

She feels his nose nuzzling into the messy bun at the crown of her head and the heat of his breath ghost down along her neck. “ You could wear such attire if you were to stay here?” he offers none too innocently.

 

He bends further to kiss at her neck, earning her scowls at how good he is at it. Why hadn’t anyone warned her about Vulcan charm?! Here she is wavering in her resolve to go, just from the ticklish nipping of his lips and the thing he does with his hands when particularly amorous. 

 

The best she had been able to describe it to Rand was the sensation of sinking down into a freshly made bed after a bone tiring day. He doesn’t just feel good, it’s like Spock oozes comfort on comfort. It was like girlfriend crack and she was weak to resist him once he starts. “ Grr...Spock…” she whines, stomping her foot on the floor.

 

“ Yes, Nyota.” he answers, all too innocently.  _ It’s always the quiet ones, _ she thinks as he nibbles at her ear in genuine affection.

 

“ I’ve got to  _ go _ …! Stop, haha!  _ Stop it _ !” she cackles as the feeling intensifies into a bubbly static. My goodness, he is incorrigible! 

 

He hides his face in the crook of her neck once more and chides her. “ Could you be more specific. You know how generalizations irks me.”

 

“ You know what I mean.” she huffs, struggling to keep her composure. In the face of his very demonstrative display of affection, Nyota wrestles with finishing her packing.

 

She’s about to zip up when Spock all too easily lifts her from the floor and settles her around her waist. She reaches for her bag but he beats her too it and pulls it back behind him. She nails him with a particularly livid stare when he kisses her like _ that. _

 

All nonessential functions within her stop and pour their energy into focusing on his lips and damn...those lips were perfect…

 

He walks the both of them out of the bedroom and into the main living space, still bracing her with one arm while holding her bag with the other. Not that he had any chance of dropping her. By this time, Nyota’s limbs are wrapped around him like a gift on Christmas and there is nothing that she wants more than to open it. 

 

That’s it, you win, she thinks, turning her head to catch his mouth more deeply. She’s tried to be strong, tried to hold out for the greater good but dammit she’s only human and he’s Vulcan and can do  _ this _ !

 

She pitifully mews into his mouth and tightens her legs around his waist. Spock is all too eager to kiss her back but suddenly he stops. Quick and careful he deposits her on the floor and commences in buttoning the open pajama top around her torso. 

 

She sways on her feet as he does so, eyebrows folding up towards her forehead in confusion. “ Wha…?”

 

“ You must go K’diwa.” he says in mock concern. “ If you do not depart in the next twenty eight  seconds you will be late for the party and subsequent sleepover.”

 

“ What...why..but you-”

 

“ -don’t want you to be late.” he finishes, noting with (naughty) appreciation the dazed look still gracing her face.

 

He hands Nyota her bag and gives a friendly pat-pat to her cheek before ushering her out of the cabin. “ Have an enjoyable evening, Lieutenant. Good night.”

 

The door slides closed with a hiss and a snick and Nyota is shaken out of her stupor. What in the...did he just..and get her all...just to leave her like...and have the last word?!

 

She bangs on the door and roars. “ _Spock_!”

 

The intercom of their cabin comes to life with a buzzy hum. “ Do not be late for your appointment. I wish you the best.”

 

“ You no good, flirty-”

 

His voice buzzed loudly and cut her off. “ The emotional, sleepy suffering of the many outweigh that of the one or the few. Live long and prosper and I shall see you in the morning.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you ever think Spock would let someone get the last word in?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock wakes up with a fright. Nyota wakes up with a chill. McCoy pops over to see what's the matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments, so sweet of you guys.

_ Something is wrong _

 

“ Computer. Lights at ten percent.”

 

A soft glow grows from the ceiling in a ruby red richness and colors the shadows with a pale shade of the same. Spock rolls up on the bed and stares down at Nyota in the dim light that’s provided. 

 

Her breath comes out in a raspy, rattle and her skin has a fine sheen of sweat to it. When he moves to touch her, she groans at the disturbance of the mattress beneath. Spock wills his heartbeat and breath to steady as his concern grows with the touch of her arm. The soft skin there is pimpled as if chilled but feverish with heat. “ Nyota, we must get you to the medical bay.”

 

She groans again this time a bit weaker as she tries and fails to lift herself from the sheets. “...Spock…” she whispers, lifting her fingers for his touch. He takes them quickly against his own and leans with a kiss to her cheek. Her mind registers his lips as cool and she finds it somewhat troublesome that she should think so.

 

Spock looks her over once more and carefully untangles their fingers. He hurries to the desk comm on the other side of his bedroom’s partition and pages McCoy. He answers on the second ring and fills the space of the room with his voice. “ Spock? You must be dead or dying to be calling me at this hour. Hell, you must be dying to be calling me period.”

 

Spock places his hands on the desk and leans forward over the comm whispering. “ As much as I would entertain our ritualistic barbing doctor, I am in need of your services.”

 

There’s a pause on the other end and Spock can hear the noisy ruffle of sheets moving back and forth. “ Sure thing. What ails ya?” 

 

“ Nyota is ill.” he murmurs, glancing through the partition’s lattice to where she’s lying motionless. “ I did not use a tricorder to possibly rule out a pathogen but she does exhibit the following symptoms: fever, chills, muscle ache and weakness, fatigue and possible dehydration.” he finishes, remembering the hoarse, cracking of her voice as she said his name.

 

The doctor hums thoughtfully and more noise can be heard on the other side of the receiver as if he’s pulling on clothing. “ Just going off of what you’ve told, it sounds like princess has the flu. Now which flu she has I’ll have to see for myself.”

 

“ We will leave at once for the medical bay.”

 

McCoy grunts in disagreement over the whooshing and hiss of a moving door. “ Stay put, I’m making a house call.”

 

Spock furrows his brows and blinks down at the comm, recalling the jargon phrase. “ You do not make house calls.”

 

“ Yeah, well, for Uhura I will. She’s one of my better patients and I’d like to keep it that way. See you in ten. Over and out.”

 

A sigh escapes Spock’s lip and he feels some of the tension riding his shoulders dissipate. Help is on its way and with it a professional and a dear friend. The surging well of gratitude he feels burning at his chest is neatly tucked away for further reflection during meditation. McCoy, if Spock can be so bold as to speculate, is one of the most educated and experienced physicians in the quadrant.

 

With Seventy eight different species to tend to on the  _ Enterprise _ and the tens more they encounter while away on missions, the no-nonsense CMO has shown his innate skill within the healing arts time and time again. People often fret or complain about Leonard McCoy's bedside manner but Spock would far more employ a competent doctor than a complimentary one.

 

A click signals the call’s disconnection and Spock moves quietly from the desk back to Nyota’s side.

 

She’s fallen back asleep or at least appears to be resting as kneels before her. He watches her face as a disconcerting wheeze fills the air each time she inhales. The strong urge to join their fingers together assaults him as he stares but he worries over the intentions of it. 

 

Yes, the action  _ may _ , in fact, comfort her but if Nyota is sleeping he does not wish to rouse her with his mental presence. Upon further reflection, Spock knows the performing the act selfishly would alleviate some of his discomfort as well. 

 

It pains him to see her in such a state, so weak that she cannot move and can barely speak. Not have the means or the knowhow to help his betrothed frustrates him, alerting him to the unraveling state of his emotional control. 

 

Nyota moans and shifts along the sheets. Spock saddles over closer to bed, resting his chin onto the mattress with his eyes wide with worry.

 

“ Mhmm, Spock...stop thinking so loudly…”

 

Spock finds his lips tilting into a small, lopsided grin and rests his head onto her hot, limp hand. “ My apologies.”

 

She groans and smacks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “...get...sick…”

 

Spock realizes she’s referring to him laying his face so closely to her body. “ I do not care.”

 

“ Illogical…”

 

“ I often am in regards to you.” he says quietly, running his hand over her arm.

 

A mutual warmth spread between them and they remained in quiet company until the door chime broke the mood.

 

Spock reluctantly rises from his position by the bed and opens the door for the doctor. Spock startles slightly at the man before him, not expecting to see him fitted in a biohazard suit. McCoy gives him an amused look. “ What? Am I overdressed?”

 

“ Perhaps but I could not say for sure.”

 

“ With Nyota sick as a dog and you up, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I’d have to think that, whatever she’s sick with is something Vulcans are immune to. Now if you excuse me.”

 

He steps in with Spock close on his heels and places a large bag on the nightstand nearest Nyota. He calls up the lights to hundred percent and sucks at his teeth. “ Oh darling, you look awful.”

 

Nyota slowly lifts a single lid and gazes at him. “ You...too…”

 

McCoy chuckles and adjusts the settings on his tricorder. “ Not feeling too bad to lie about my dashing good looks.”

 

Spock looms over McCoy’s shoulder and looks between the two. “ I assure you she is quite ill. Why is she so blue? Is she getting the proper amount of oxygen to-”

 

McCoy sighs and shoos Spock away with gloved hand. “ My God, Spock, you’re worse than a mother hen! A little space to work would be nice.”

 

Spock begrudgingly takes a single step back and McCoy grumbles something under his breath and not even he can pick up with his hearing.

 

McCoy then proceeds to run a battery of tests in sync with a checklists of questions. The tricorders work up to extent, listing all the bacteria present and somatic operations therein but reading the informations to conclude a diagnosis was still left much in the hands of the doctor.

 

Spock goes from looking at the ghastly coloring of Nyota’s face to the doctor’s stern one as he scrolled through the reading and clucked his tongue. “ Hey, Uhura? Did you happen to come into contact with any Saurians or exports from that star system?”

 

Nyota sighs and closes her eyes, thinking over his question. It’s Spock who answers him. “ During our last station docking, the lieutenant and I, dined at a restaurant specializing in a number of cuisines.”

 

“ Any saurian dishes?” McCoy asks, hopeful.

 

“ None. Though we did partake of a tasting selection. Saurian brandy was one of the samples.”

 

McCoy hums and waves the tricorder wand over her once more with a nod. “ And there we have it. Auroral plague.”

 

“...plague?!” Nyota croaks trying fruitlessly to sit up. 

 

McCoy puts a hand to her shoulder with a shush. “ Don’t worry, you’re fine. I’ve got ya. You too, elf ears. Vulcans are immune.” 

 

Spock comes closer and studies of the small synthesizer McCoy is assembling on the nightstand. “ Doctor. I am unfamiliar with this...condition.”

 

McCoy powers on the boxy looking device and sets his fingers to work punching in the right coding. The synthesizer emits a crescendoing whirl before changing into a droning buzz. “ It’s also known as the Dramian plague. The primary symptom the patients typically present are multichromatic pigmentation or looking like the aurora borealis is being projected across their skin. The rest of the symptoms mimic a horrible case of influenza.”

 

The synthesizer clicks, beeps and powers down into standby. McCoy opens the hatch containing a small vial of chrome colored liquid and loads it into a hypo. “ Fortunately for you, and most unfortunate for me, is I’ve personally dealt with this agony myself.” he sighs, gently positioning Nyota’s form to his liking. He pulls a bit at her shirt collar and sanitizes her neck with a spray from his med case.

 

“ I spent the better part of four days, in my bed, blue as Andoria after a bad bottle of brandy made its way into my possession. About time I made a vaccine out of a synthesized Saurian antibodies, who I might add are immune as well, I would have given Ensign Gaila a run for her money with how green I was. I will say though I looked good in red.”

 

He taps the vial to make sure it’s secure in the hypo and gently depresses it at her neck. “ There we are, one silver bullet. And here’s one-”

 

He pauses and draws out another hypo already loaded with what Spock summarizes to be painkiller or fever reducer. He holds it against her neck and as it hisses Nyota releases a sigh of relief. “ - for all the pain and suffering you’ve endured for trying to be adventurous and drink different folk’s hooch.”

 

The doctor gently lays a hand on her shoulder and gives a soft, affectionate squeeze. She closes her eyes and huffs. “ Ow.”

 

“ Sorry, darling. Habit.” 

 

McCoy starts to disassemble his things, spraying a temporary desensitizer  as he goes until he can place everything into the larger cell in the medial made for such things. Spock glances at Nyota, now assured of her safety.

 

It had been a frightening venture to wake up to her so ill. He is gratify for the diagnosis if only to know that it had a cure and was treatable. Spock bows his head towards McCoy. “ Thank you, Doctor.”

 

“ Meh, think nothing of it.” McCoy finishes packing up and lifts his bag along with a PADD in hand. He taps out a few place on the screen and gives Spock a pointed looked. “ I just sent you a report about care and things to look out for with this disease.”

 

Spock nods and sends his gaze over to his sleeping bondmate. “ Noted.”

 

McCoy smiles and reopens his bag. He deposits twelve hypos on his nightstand and wags his finger between them and the Vulcan. “ That’s for pain as needed but I’m sure she’ll ask. Anything more or less let me know. Make sure kiddo gets a lot of water too. It’ll help with flushing it out.”

 

McCoy leans over and Spock looks down in confusion. “ Why the look of satisfaction doctor?”

 

“ OH nothing, just that you two are under quarantine until I’m sure the plague is deader than a doornail.”

 

“ Quarantine?” Spock asks in genuine stock.

 

McCoy shuffles past him towards the door with his pale yellow bio suit noisily swishing as he moves. “ Oh yes. I hope you in enjoy playing Doctor as much as you like to dictate the way it should be done. Comm if you need me.” And with that he was gone.

 

\----  _ the next morning _

 

The false sense of sunlight wakes her to her surroundings. Nyota blinks away the haze film of sleep the day before and peers of the pillow. There in a chair beside the bed sat Spock, unconscious with a book in his lap and a hand on her arm. He had been watching her throughout the night and only slept now after administering one of the hypos.

 

_ Sweet man she thinks _ , sighing in happiness,  _ my man _

 

Seconds later his eyes flutter open and drinks her in. “ Are you well?” he asks, his voice thick with sleep.

  
“ I’m recovering...why are you looking at me that way?”

 

Spock smiles and tilts his head. “ You are purple. Still quite beautiful but with an additional aesthetic charm.”

 

She shakes her head against he pillow and smiles as he pulls her hand into the palm of his own.“ You’re hopeless, Spock.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ironically my youngest was sick which prevented me from posting the day before last. Oh well though.


	4. bump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on New Vulcan, Nyota and Spock share a surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I got busy wasn't able to get this out earlier.

Both suns are up and rising when Nyota blinks at the intruding light. The haze within her mind starts to clear as she tries to assess what woke her. Her sense slowly report back to her, noting the thin layer of sweat coated across her skin. Hot she concludes as she peers out towards the balcony. 

 

Even with the climate control hard at work, Nyota feels him hot behind her. The solid weight of Spock’s bulk adds to the heat already housed within their bedroom but she can’t find the care ( or the energy) she wiggle away. There’s a comfort to it, knowing they were tucked away together from the world.

 

Similar in nature, is that of his hand resting protectively over the slight swell of her belly. Gravity and heat aside, New Vulcan has been accommodating to the new life inside her though she doubts they’ll stay on until he or she is born. If only that were the least of her concerns. 

 

For as diligent as they are in planning, they did not  _ plan _ on getting pregnant so soon after trying. They certainly hadn’t been playing things fast and loose when they began their relations, but it was fair to say, the two of them had been surprised with their fertility.

 

Though still early and fragile, the pair agreed to tell Sarek of the news. As stoic as he typically is, he thanked them for choosing to inform him but it was clear to see he was beside himself with joy….Vulcan joy that is.

 

He made sure that he was available to Nyota should she need any help while Spock was busy trying to prepare and he been no less doting to her than her family was trying to be from aboard.

 

They had no permanent residence, tetrabytes of Starfleet papers to file and the matter of choosing between the Obstetrician. McCoy, M’Benga or many other doctors via to take the honor but the thought of it all makes her drowsy all over again.

 

When she opens her eyes for the second time, it’s the smell of spicey, sugary scratch that wakes her. Nyota’s eyes roll down to the bedspread, where a tray is loaded down with breakfast. The divot in the bed behind her clues her into where Spock is before she even turns to find him reading his PADD. More likely playing a game she thinks as she grins up at him. “ Good morning.”

 

His eyes leave the screen and blink down at her with a smile of their own. “ Good morning. Did you rest well?”

 

She closes her eyes and stretches against the sheets with a groan. “ Hmph, well enough. Thank you for breakfast.”

 

“ It was no trouble.” he replies evenly, looking over her face. He moves a hand to the curls stuck around her face and gently brushes them free. “ You are hot.”

 

Nyota grunts in agreement as she looks over her plate for what to eat first. “ It’s not the first time nor will it be the last.”

 

“ We should depart from my father’s residence soon.” he says glancing back to his PADD. She sighs and retrieves her fork, spearing a bright orange cube of roasted mashya. At least that what it smells and looks like. It feels like every day she eats something new on this world, whether Vulcan or New Vulcan in origin. “ You won’t hear any complaint from me. It’s been so easy going without a job to do.”

 

She feels his arm come around her again and give her belly bump an affectionate pat. “ You have not been without work. Just reprieved of your Starfleet duties.”

 

Nyota moves her hand to join his and hums in agreement. “ Yeah true is I could still do it but I’d have Leonard and you hovering over my shoulder with every shift I take. Don’t forget what happened last time I sneezed on the bridge.”

 

Spock purses his lip and expels his breath more forcefully than necessary. “ There were multiple sneezes, the sound of which we all found unsettling.”

 

“ But I’ve always sneezed like that.” she counters, with a sour pout.

“ I did not say that your sneeze changed.” he retorts. Nyota turns and playfully swats his shoulder to which he feigns injury over. Seriously, if the crew only knew about his humor they would flip, she thinks as he cradles his arm against his chest and glares at her with what she knows to be a quick wink.

 

“ I will miss your father, though.” she murmurs, still piling into her food. Thank God, Spock knows how to cook she thinks as she feels the last of her nausea abait. This little bun wasn’t letting up much on her morning sickness but it’s been getting better. Whether it’s the food or more sleep coupled with less duties she can’t be sure. Having Spock as attentive as he has been is a sure bet though. 

 

With every up-chucking afternoon or early bedtime, Spock has been there to see her through most of it. Plying her with tea ( supplied suspiciously fast from the Vulcan embassy through express cargo), compliments and a mountain of requested food, Nyota has never felt closer to her husband than she has now. 

 

There were times in their relationship where she had to wonder if he was all in or even in at all but with them working to be a family, Nyota has seen a side of Spock she thinks no one (including him) knew existed. 

 

He’s back to reading his PADD but his hand is affectionately rubbing at her back. “ I shall as well but he has mentioned to me, on several occasions, that he intends to keep in regular contact.”

 

His hand moves forward and slides along her belly only to be met with a pointed bump. The pair of them freeze at the thump and startle as a second and a third bump into his palm. Spock moves himself to hover over his mate’s belly. He glances up at her, awestruck and smiles softly at the teary-eyed laugh she give him in response. “Spock! Our baby-”

 

“-is moving.” he finishes with a breathy pant. The knowledge that she was pregnant they find is much different from the evidence of it. Since her belly had started to swell, Spock could not keep himself from running his hand across it. There inside of his wife, was a wondrous product of their union, their baby. 

 

Spock is now face to face with his hand and gently stroking Nyota’s stomach to coax the baby into kicking once more. He freezes midstroke and looks at her in dismay. “ Does it hurt when the child kicks?”

 

Nyota sniffs and shakes her head. “ No, it’s just surprising. It’s just been flutters up until now.”

 

She places her hand on top of his and encourages him to resume his movement. “ It’s okay.”

 

Spock holds his breath and allows her to move his hand, huffing out a breath in what she knows to be a laugh. “ I feel the outline of a foot pressing into my palm...or what I believe to be a foot.”

Nyota leans back on her pillow and watches him study her belly as if it were an equation. “ When did McCoy say we could tell the gender?”

 

Spock blinks up at her and back down at her midriff. “ Four to five months. By that time the fetus will be far enough along to visually confirm the sex.”

 

He shifts then, crawling up over and plants a chaste kiss on top of her forehead. “ You would not hold it against me if I told you I had hoped for twins…”

 

Nyota’s eyes widen and she scoffs in disbelief. “ Twins?! What? Well no, I won’t hold your wishes against you but I will tell your hormones to calm down until I’m done with this one.”

 

A quick look of amusement crosses his face as he settles down beside her with his head resting down along her shoulder. “ I did not wish to chose between a boy or a girl. With twin births neither of our family histories, chances of the twins being fraternal would favorably high.”

 

Nyota chuckles quickly and holds him to her chest. “ Let’s just get through one child before we start planning on others.”

 

Spock nuzzles his nose into the crease between her arm and torso and holds her around the waist. “ I cannot help but plan. It is too important not to. You both are too important not to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping to get this last chapter out soon. Cheers


	5. The dawning of the morning and the afternoon of a life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A number of changes in a short span of time has the newly weds stressed and tired. A late weekend morning has them late to rise and early to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks all for reading, I don't fancy T rated fics but I suppose I can write them ;p

Stillness, of the air and sound. Warmth, of his body and the sun shining in. Affection, deep and abiding from the press of his hand.

 

Warmth. Comfort. Safety. 

 

Sa-mekh, Spock supplies to the small, inquiring mind. Baba, he adds a moment later in the tongue of her mother. Either from satisfaction or indifference towards his answer, the young mind of his infant daughter fades back into the foggy haze of sleep.

 

Spock nuzzles her closer even as he half doses himself and sighs against the weight laying on top of his chest. It was a pleasant burden to bear, to say the least. There, tucked in the nook of his arms, is the newest love of his life. It was difficult if not impossible to say what he enjoys the most. 

 

The fresh scent of her wispy black hair, the sweet scent of her breath as she exhales their tiny parted lips, the peacefulness of her face as she slumbers sound against him; all of these various observations are too extraordinary to compare. All of her is precious, everything about her pulls at him instinctively to protect and coddle. 

 

_ Daughter, my daughter, _ he thinks proudly, teasing the point of her ear up to its proper position. It will be a few more days still before the ends stand up on their own but even the subtle hint of them fills him with a curious joy. To think this being had growing inside of his Nyota, he muses nuzzles his nose across her scalp. 

 

Skin to skin in the quiet sanctuary of her nursery, Spock feels her mind distell the world around her to its base. She knows him intimately and yet she doesn’t it. For her, Spock is a collection of senses, hot, firm and cerebral. The last she relishes; the feel of his mind is as tactile to her as the weight of his hand on her back, reassuring in its presence. 

 

He’s made a point to seek her out through their bond before picking her up or placing her back in her crib. Nyota has warned him not to spoil her with the visions that she knows he can create. Take it from me, she’ll grow to expect it she teased fondly as he held her for the first time.

 

She had been so very small, so incredibly soft that it almost hurt to touch her. As he looked at her angry face, wailing at the loss of her home, Spock didn’t see how can he keep himself from doing so? In that moment he wanted to give her everything he was able to and in his mind he does.

 

She won’t understand it for a while yet, her mind is still developing its memory banks into something like his own. In the meantime, Spock tries to leave her small snippets of his memories as treasure to hunt for later, typically recollections of worlds long since traversed. 

 

Each morning as Nyota would rise to feed her, Spock would wrestle the youngling from her arms and allow her another reprieve. She would typically shower and eat a morning meal but this early eve has found his bondmate and wife back in bed. Their kan-bu is a voracious eating and yet to discern her days from nights. The combination has made for a very exhausting lifestyle but Spock has never seen Nyota as happy as she is with their child. 

 

His favorite moments of late have been waking to them in the act of their morning routine. Sometimes she’s nursing, lying down on her side as Samara‘s tiny fist grabs her slender finger from stroking her plump cheeks. In others they’re done feeding snuggled against each other with Nyota’s arms hugging her between her breasts. Whatever the situation, Nyota is always speaking to her. Whether it’s the soft murmur of Betazed lullabies or the hissy, whisper Romulan devotions, Nyota’s love is poured out in spades.

 

She fidgets in his arms and bobs her head against his chest. Rooting, she is hungry, he conclusions, shifting her body with a pat, pat, pat to her pampered bottom. He rises from easy chair nestled in the corner and pads quietly out of the nursery and into their room. The light shining in through the tinted windows has brightened, signally the rise of Alpha centauri B in its late start after A. 

 

The move here had been fraught with stress but well worth it in the scheme of things. Centered evenly between Earth and New Vulcan the binary solar system had a host of M class planets to choose from. The teal-red orb circling around Proxima had a somewhat tropical climate and gravity that both could appreciate.

 

Spock glances out of the window to the strange trees beyond it, coming out of the ground like a series of punctuation marks. It was almost the dry season. He and Nyota could have a respite of being indoors away from the rain and storming. At the thought of thunder and raindrops, Spock feels Samara lose interest in the irritated gnawing of her fist to his thoughts of water. He pauses in the doorway and thinks on it then.

 

Rain. Cold. Wetness. Storming. It had been dreadful weather when he had invited Nyota first over to his apartment after dinner on their first date. They were both cold and keen to continue their conversation. Even to his sharp memory their decision of matter and supernovas all seems vague. She was beautiful and lovely and she was engrossed with him just as he was gripped by her.

 

She didn’t want to impose but he wanted her to, needed her to. He had been intent to keep her there with him for as long as he could and in his reflection now of their analogous night together, he held the testament to his success in doing so in his arms. 

 

Spock turns to his head and finds Nyota there in bed, small and dark within the pale blue of their bedding. She hadn’t wrapped her hair the night before and it spread out around her in a chaotic tangle. Her body shifts under his gaze but her eyes and mind stay closed to him. As much as he can Spock tries to not wake her as he shuffles Samara safely against her chest.

 

A pitiful chirp leaves her small mouth followed by a miserable whine, stirring Nyota into consciousness enough to tug at her shirt and draw her closer to latch. Spock’s eyes leave the baby to find Nyota’s warm, molten gaze sleepily upon him. She needn’t say anything to have him acquiesce to the request lying there within them. 

 

Walking around to the other side he pulls back the sheets and climbs back inside. Scooting and shuffling, the two rearrange themselves into a fitted shape all of their own with Samara tucked against them. Spock’s hand comes up shortly their after and connects them further. 

 

Something warm and wet tickles his palm. Tears. He pulls her closer in the spoon position they composed and questions her reaction.

 

Nyota scoffs with airy laugh and closes her eyes. “ Nothing’s wrong Spock. For once I feel like everything’s right.”

 

He relaxes behind her and into the notion that has moved her so. Right. Everything feels right. He supposes so. First thing when he wakes knowing she’s there beside him has made it true for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to lucystillintheskywithdiamonds for the prompt, it has fun and surprisingly easy to write.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a reader a while back ask me if I ever set these stories to music and my honest answer is I rarely ever do. For this story though I've had a lot of Daniel Caesar playing lately and his lyrics and music come to mind as I try and recapture the feeling it gives me.
> 
> For this chapter I would say Daniel Caesar's Violet is the song I think of. 
> 
> Thoughts? Feels? Food recommendations?


End file.
